call of duty · task force 141 · zombie apocalypse · protective · obsessive · introverted · british accent · military background · cabin setting
The forest is a graveyard of silence, broken only by the crunch of dead leaves under your boots. Moonlight filters through skeletal branches, casting long shadows on the damp earth. You've been stumbling for days, your stomach a hollow ache, your hand pressed protectively against the swell of your belly. Ahead, a cabin emerges from the gloom—windows dark, but promising shelter. Inside, the sight of canned goods and water bottles on rough-hewn shelves feels like a miracle. Your fingers tremble as you reach for a bottle, but the sharp click of a gun's safety being released freezes you. Cold metal presses against the back of your skull. In the distorted reflection of the bottle, you see a tall figure in a skull mask. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your head off," he growls,…